


Notes on a Divergent Theme

by purple01_prose



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Assassins, Child Abuse, Female Character In Command, Female Character of Color, Female Friendship, Female Relationships, Gen, POV Female Character, offscreen sexual shenangians, what is your life when assassins are better for you than your parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-11
Updated: 2012-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-11 21:15:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple01_prose/pseuds/purple01_prose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jade Nguyen needed a mentor and she needed protection. She got both in Talia al Ghul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notes on a Divergent Theme

_“Biology is the least of what makes someone a mother.”_ Oprah Winfrey

 

 

Talia has to admire the girl’s daring. She is clearly unsure of what the response would be to her unusual request, but there was a haunted quality to her eyes as she pleaded, and Talia recognizes it.

 

Some of the League operatives who came to the League when older had that same look behind their eyes. They tend to be the most vicious.

 

So she acquiesces, because the girl needs guidance, and if she was brave enough to ask Talia al Ghul, then she is brave enough to undergo her mentorship. It will not be easy, but she can tell the girl is willing to fight for it, is willing to put forth the work necessary, and so they begin.

 

\--

 

But before they can begin, Talia makes sure to announce the apprenticeship in front of the major League operatives. Her father does so on the rare occasions he takes an apprentice, and her sisters as well. Though the last time she in particular took an apprentice was decades ago, there is enough precedent that no one looks deeper into the true meaning of the announcement ceremony.

 

Her father stands off to the side, unflappable and intimidating as always, while Talia takes the center of the dais. The girl comes forward, kneeling, as Talia goes to her and they both swear to the (antiquated) oath her father created when he created the League. Down the hall, hidden in the shadows, she can make out Sportsmaster and his scowl, but Talia raises her head challengingly. No one can gainsay her on this. From this moment, Jade Nguyen is under her protection, and the only person who could contest it is her father, and he will say nothing.

 

\--

 

They are in one of her personal bases (known to the League, but not League-affiliated) in her favored Saudi Arabia. It is a room that has many doors, and most are currently open to let in the warm breeze. Jade fidgets slightly as Talia looks her over.

 

Her hair is too long for the initial training; she makes a note to get it cut. She is dressed in the training robes of the League, and they hang about her frame—she requires more calories than she has been getting. She is scarred, on her arms and hands, and when she had first changed from her jeans to the robes, Talia had seen the scarring on her back.

 

Jade had said at the beginning that her father would pit her and her younger sister against each other in an attempt to teach them the basics, and some of the scars are not clean—but they are not large, and Talia accepts that those are the places where Jade’s sister landed a hit. But the other scars are deeper and cleaner. Those scars are also in places where it would not show if she wore a tank top or shorts.

 

Anger, comfortable in its familiarity, settles in her stomach. It is good that Jade’s father recognizes that Jade is under Talia’s protection. Had he been her mentor within the League, only her father could have censured him for his treatment of his daughter, and Ra’s does not care nearly enough.

 

“What weapons have you been trained with?” Talia asks quietly, circling around the girl. She has a fine bone structure, but she will never gain musculature like others within the League.  She’s not going to be tall, but Talia can make her quick. There are ways for a smaller opponent—particularly a _female_ opponent—to even the odds.

 

She uses them whenever she goes into the field.

 

Jade will be pretty once she hits maturity, and that will help her as well. She’ll be better for some of the more...public missions the League engages in.

 

“The sword, mostly,” Jade admits in a rasp. She’s not used to the dry heat of Saudi Arabia, but that will change.

 

Talia clucks. “You should display proficiency with all manner of weaponry. I would like to see your sword work before we decide where next to progress.” She comes to a stop in front of Jade, folding her hands behind her. “You will learn all manner of things here—weaponry, poisons, history, literature, politics. You will learn how to escape, how to disappear, and when I judge you are ready, you will go into the field. Be warned—I am a hard taskmaster.”

 

“I can do it,” Jade vows, and Talia believes her. There is a fire in her—she may be the best operative the League has.

 

“We will begin by cutting your hair,” Talia says smoothly. Jade, startled, looks at her.

 

“My lady--?”

 

“You are trained in fighting your sister,” Talia acknowledges. “A younger and weaker opponent. For now, you should learn how to fight without worrying about whether your hair is an asset or a hindrance. When you are ready, you may grow it out again.” Her lips curve in a slight smile. “When I first began training, my hair was cut and my head shaved.”

 

Jade blinks.

 

“You will not have to go that far,” Talia assures her in a way that Jade would come to learn is how Talia jokes. “But for now, it is a distraction and an unnecessary weight to you. Hair can grow back; learning the basics properly is something that cannot be passed on.”

 

\--

 

After a year of training—Jade _is_ adept with a sword, quick to adapt to her opponent’s style, not one for following a specific style, though she prefers the sai blades Talia has but has never used—her father comes in the middle of the night to visit.

 

Jade is out with some of Talia’s people, learning how to navigate the land by the stars, and learning the necessary skills to survive in the desert for periods of time. Next year, Talia will move them elsewhere, perhaps Japan or Mongolia, and teach her the survival skills for those places. By the time her training is done, if Jade is dropped anyway around the world, she will know how to keep herself alive long enough to get to a League base.

 

Ra’s al Ghul enters her base without ceremony. The lack tells her this is not a League visit; this is a family one.

 

One of the servants brings forth tea and light food; Talia does not like to eat heavy food so late, and her father is the same. He is silent while she serves him tea, partaking of the almond cookies that they share a fondness for.

 

At last, when Talia has eaten some of her fare and gone through two cups of tea, her father speaks. “You have not taken an apprentice in quite some time.”

 

“No one was daring enough to ask me personally,” their game of biting back-and-forth, almost banter, makes itself known.

 

“Quite impudent,” her father observes.

 

And it would have been, if Jade had petitioned Ra’s.

 

“Perhaps, but desperate people are willing to do desperate things.”

 

“Desperate...” her father makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat. “Crock?”

 

“Yes,” Talia tells him. They do not need to discuss specifics; it hardly matters, her father will never censure him for his treatment.

 

Her father sits in silence again, nibbling on a cookie and sipping his tea. Finally, he spoke again. “Why?”

 

This was why he was here.

 

“Because I thought she could go far,” she replies, pouring him more tea. “Because I recognize the determination she has.”

 

“Will it be enough?”

 

“I have ensured that she will always remain grateful to the League,” Talia says quietly. “She will not leave unless there are truly dire circumstances, which would never occur while you lead us.”

 

“Gratitude can only get one so far,” her father points out.

 

 “She will never profess it, rather acting and showing that gratitude.”  She wonders but does not ask if that is sufficient.

 

Apparently, it is. He nods in agreement, finishing his tea and is gone by the time Jade returns, shivering, her face wind burned but her eyes elated.

 

“She has done adequately,” the leader of her men tells her impassively. She nods.

 

“Come inside and get warm,” Talia tells Jade with a trace of warmth, wrapping a blanket around the girl’s thin, trembling shoulders herself and leading her inside.

 

\--

 

They are in Gotham; her Beloved is away, visiting the circus this night. She has no fear they will be caught.

 

Jade is silent, withdrawn. She is not a bubbly child, given to emotional displays, but she has a certain warmth of expression when they are training, or Talia is teaching her, that Jade lacks here.

 

The girl has been in her care for three years, and she has shown marked improvement. She can use all the weapons well in Talia’s possessions, and her knowledge of poisons rival Talia’s own. She has a strong grasp of politics, and she is well read.

 

Soon, she will go into the field full-time. But unless told otherwise, all of her missions for her first two years within the League will come from Talia. After that, they will—‘sever ties’ is the wrong word—but Jade will be a full operative, which means her orders will come from Ra’s. Rarely will they come from Talia.

 

And once Talia relinquishes control of Jade’s missions, Jade will be at the mercy of Ra’s as to whom she works with.

 

Though Talia intends to speak to her father about the necessity of Jade _never_ working with Sportsmaster. Three years away have yet to abate her hatred; it will likely never disappear completely.

 

“Quickly, the advantages of working in a city over rural areas,” Talia demands quietly. They are dressed similarly, in dark green that blends into the shadows here. Jade has indicated a desire for a mask, and Talia has commissioned it, but it will require training to work with it.

 

“There is more sound, so if any mistakes are made it can be covered,” Jade says obediently. “There are more places to hide, to disappear.”

 

“The disadvantages?”

 

“Suspicious sounds will not be easy to explain away. City people are more alert to their surroundings. And...”

 

“And?” Talia prompts.

 

“If the city has a costume defending it, the assassin’s schedule must work around the costume’s as well.”

 

“Very good,” Talia approves. Jade’s shoulders unbend a bit at the praise, but she is far tenser than the situation should call for.

 

“Does your sister, Artemis, still live here?”

 

Jade looks at her, startled. “Yes. With my mother. Once my mother returned from prison, she kicked him out.” Her fingers flex a little in their snug gloves, the only nervous tell she allows herself. “My sister sends me letters from time to time.”

 

Talia knows this, and knows that Jade has a specially commissioned post office box so she can hear from her sister without compromising the League. “Your mother was Huntress, yes?”

 

“She was,” Jade admits. At this stage, she does not question Talia’s statements. “She fell one night, and went to prison not long after that.”

 

“She was weak,” Talia said clearly, looking out over Gotham. Jade stirs at her side, no doubt about to protest, but she forestalls her. “She fell and allowed herself to be caught. You know the protocol for League operatives if they are caught and they are unable to escape.”

 

And Jade does know. All League operatives have the false tooth containing cyanide.

 

“ _You_ will not be weak,” Talia continues, looking at her apprentice. “Now tell me the truth, does your sister matter to you?”

 

“Yes,” Jade blurts. “I don’t want her to die.”

 

“Would you have taken your sister to us?”

 

“I told her she could come along. She refused.”

 

“Would you have let us train her?” Talia stares at her apprentice, but in her mind’s eye, she can only see the child that Jade was, clutching an even smaller blonde child, begging for Talia’s guidance and protection.

 

“If she had wanted to,” Jade says at last. It’s not a perfect answer, but it’s what Talia expected. Jade, up the point of becoming her apprentice, had her entire life as a lack of choice. To deny perhaps the one person that she cares about her choice would go against Jade’s character.

 

“Come. We have a mission to complete.” Talia does not use the grappling hooks her Beloved favors, but she has her own ways of flying through cities, ways that Jade now knows as well.

 

They depart in the quiet of the night, and though Jade says nothing, Talia knows she is relieved that she did not see her mother or her sister.

 

Family. So troublesome, and yet something you can never entirely be rid of.

 

\--

 

She is sitting at her desk, grinding up plants for an antidote to a new poison when she detects Jade’s footsteps behind her. Jade has been an independent operative for the past year and a half, after her two-and-a-half year trial operative status. She was sent on a mission to assassinate a scientist unless the scientist created a counter to her own technology.

 

Her Beloved’s team of young heroes had intercepted. Talia knows her father is about to become involved, and that likely means _she_ will be involved.

 

She has been fully briefed on the mission, but Jade is here, no doubt to brief her herself. Talia does not turn. “You saw your sister?”

 

There is the muffled sound of Jade kneeling, the clatter of her mask being put aside. “Yes.”

 

“You did not kill her, despite being given the opportunity.”

 

“No.” There’s a thrum of defiance in Jade’s tone.

 

Talia closes her eyes briefly, before continuing with her task. “I did not expect you to.”

 

Jade is silent. She knows there is more to come.

 

“In our line of work, having even that one person that we cannot kill is a vulnerability, but I am not the person to inform you to destroy your weakness,” Talia continues, instinctively thinking of her Beloved, “for I too am guilty of it. I would recommend not alerting your peers and your enemies as to your weakness, however.”

 

She turns, gestures for Jade to come sit across from her at the table. There is a mortar and pestle already waiting for her. “How is she, your sister?”

 

“She has grown,” Jade admits, beginning to grind the plants. “She is much stronger, no doubt because my father is no longer influencing her.”

 

“And yet...”

 

“Yet she is insecure,” Jade meets her eyes. “She is young.”

 

“She is,” Talia concedes. “No doubt she will learn.”

 

Jade nods, and they work on the antidote in silence after that.

 

\--

 

She is in Gotham, and Jade is on assignment in Taipei. She is not...thrilled about manipulating one of _her_ people (Jade legitimately thinks Ra’s wishes to have Lex Luthor dead), but she knows her father well enough not to question him.

 

At least, on these matters.

 

Tonight, in Gotham, she is putting in an appearance at one of the many political benefits her Beloved is bound, by his station and his money, to create and attend. He does not know she will be here, and that is best.

 

She is still angry at him, at his insistence she _choose_.

 

Her escort for the evening is agog over her beauty, and he is exoticizing her. She can see it in how he looks at her, and she vows to lose him as soon as possible. He ‘assists’ her down the stairs that lead into the main ballroom of this hotel by holding her hand, and though she does not like it, she allows herself to smile as he begins a round of introductions. Most names she deems unimportant, but then there’s Janet and Jack Drake, economic opponents of her Beloved. Mrs Drake is gushing over her dress (yes, yes, Talia knows it’s gorgeous, white silk with golden patterns), and then saying, “It’s a shame we did not bring our son tonight, he said he’d like to meet the candidate for District Attorney, but he had homework, and my husband and I are leaving in the morning anyway.” Janet Drake’s smile is clearly pasted on. “He and I are leaving for Borneo.”

 

“How exciting,” Talia murmurs, because it is expected. Through the crush of people, she can see her Beloved and his ward, Grayson. Someone is tapping him on the shoulder, bringing his attention to her. To his credit, his persona hardly flickers as he starts her way. Grayson’s face changed slightly, but he’s deeply immersed in his persona as well, and he knows better than to show his surprise.

 

He is a credit to her Beloved, she decides grudgingly.

 

“Talia, this is--,” her escort begins, but her Beloved cuts him off by taking her hand and brushing his lips across it. Like always, she feels a thrill at the touch, but she stifles it.

 

“Bruce Wayne, and you are...?”

 

“Talia al Ghul,” she says at her most chilly, but he takes it as an invitation to flirt...which it was, she admits.

 

“This is my ward, Richard Grayson,” her Beloved continues, and Grayson offers his hand. She takes it, looking him over. Both Grayson and her Beloved have calluses that their personas, ward and billionaire, should not have, but these people around are not likely to discover it for themselves.

 

“How nice,” Talia says to him.

 

Her Beloved squeezes Grayson’s shoulder once, a slight movement, but Grayson’s eyes flicker, and he disappears back into the crowd as her Beloved places a hand at her back and gently directs her towards the balcony, grabbing two glasses of champagne on the way. Her escort is unhappy, but she is not sorry to lose him.

 

Once they’re outside and alone (it is a windy night, the sky threatening rain), he uses his bulk to hide the fact that he tosses his champagne over the edge.

 

“Some hapless pedestrian will be quite startled,” she observes, sipping her own champagne. It is fine, though she does not care for champagne.

 

He glances at her and sees her amusement. “If it made you laugh, I would happily dump buckets over the edge.” His flirtation is soothing, normal, though she is still angry with him.

 

“You are still angry with me,” he sighs, leaning towards her. She mirrors the action, knowing they both have facades to keep up with for their indoor audience.

 

“Yes,” she says flatly.

 

He tilts his head, and she knows he does not understand, or if he does, he does not understand the depth of what he demanded of her. “Would it help if I apologized?”

 

“Do you know the worth of the apology?” she challenges, leaning on her forearms and angling her breasts so as to deepen the shadow of cleavage displayed by her dress. It is an act as much as his is, though she notes the way his eyes flicker downwards and then back to her face.

 

“Talia, your father—“

 

“The world is not so easily separated into options,” she says stiffly. The wind is beginning to pierce her dress and she can feel the cold. “You ask me to choose between A and B, thinking it that simple, Beloved. But it is not.”

 

“You could leave the League and the assassinations behind,” he is intent. “Come here, do something besides kill.”

 

It is an old argument, one he has brought up before. She does not bother to mention she _does_ do other things than kill. She stands upright. “You ask me to choose you, but would I have _all_ of you?” she looks at him in the eyes, and they are narrowed, working through her words. “You have other demands—Grayson, your work,” they both know she’s not referring to Wayne Enterprises, “and other...distractions,” she can feel the curl of bitterness in regards to that last one. She does not like Selina Kyle. “Moreover, you would always put Gotham before all else, even your Robin. I cannot compete with a city.

 

“But when you ask me to leave the League, you presume it is just my father I would be leaving. But within the League, I have my own power, my own clout. I choose my work, what missions I take, whose back I guard. Compare this city to _that_...” she makes a sweeping gesture to indicate her words, “and what choice is it, truly? You ask me to leave my work to join you, where what work I have would be insipid at best compared to what I have done before. How can you ask that of me?”

 

He is silent, before he speaks once more. “So we are to be at odds, then.”

 

She traces his face with her fingertips. “Perhaps less at odds right now than other times.” She sees the light in his eyes change, and he grasps her other hand, running his hand over her knuckles, and pressing it to his lips.

 

“I can live with that.”

 

\--

 

Her father is furious. He thinks Jade has betrayed the League by allowing her father to be caught, and he is choosing to vent that anger on her, because Jade is en route to returning, and she has trained Jade.

 

She waits until she has his attention. “I did warn you.”

 

He chokes and glares at her, before conceding, “Yes, you did.”

 

“Also, Sportsmaster is not such an important player that it harms the League to lose him,” she continues. He nods, waiting for her to go on. “He has been trained to resist interrogation, and if he feels he is truly compromised, he has the suicide pill. Cheshire, on the other hand, has proven to be a brilliant operative, and it _would_ be a loss for the League if you execute her. From my intelligence, Sportsmaster was _going_ to be caught, and Cheshire simply did not let him take her down with him.”

 

“That is true,” her father agrees, his rage leeched from him. He glances at her. “Your meeting with the Detective.”

 

She smoothes a hand over her stomach, a gesture he cannot ignore. “Productive.”

 

“Good,” he dismisses her, still pacing, still angry, but it is no longer directed at her protégé.

 

She is Talia al Ghul, daughter of the Demon’s Head, and she has fought for her apprentice, and won.

 

A good day.

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on Tumblr (SEVERAL months ago) did a kind of joking post on whether Talia was Jade's mentor in YJ. I cycled that through my head, and behold.
> 
> Besides, I really like Talia and (YJ) Cheshire, and I love exploring their relationship.


End file.
